No Bond Stronger Than Blood
by StraddlingTheAtmosphere
Summary: Tag to 5x18. Just how did Castiel carve those Enochian sigils the right way on his own chest? Castiel/Dean/Sam.


**Title**: No Bond Stronger Than Blood  
**Pairing:** Dean/Cas/Sam (yes, you read that right.)  
**Summary: **Tag to 5.18. The hidden in-between scene that occurs after Castiel shows Sam and Dean the knife to when he rips his shirt off to reveal that Enochian sigil on his chest. Just how was he able to carve those the right way anyway?  
**Warnings: **SLASH. incest. threesome. bloodplay. almost-but-not-quite porn.  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own...If I did, they'd be doing naughty things and there would be no plot whatsoever in the entire series.

* * *

_"Cas, is this another one of your suicide missions?"_

* * *

Castiel ignores Dean and merely pulls out a knife from his trenchcoat pocket and looks at the two brothers.

"I will need both of your help in order for this to work," he says simply.

Sam swallows and nods, "Okay, Cas, what do we have to do?" Castiel turns to meet his gaze, his eyes clear and unblinking and _blue_.

"Wait a sec, Cas, before we do this, I gotta know if you'll be okay," Dean breaks in, sounding anxious despite himself.

Without breaking contact with Sam's eyes, Castiel tilts his head.

"This process," he says after some time, "will not hurt me." That doesn't really answer the question, but Dean lets out a resigned breath, taking what he can get.

"Okay, let's do this," he says, rubbing his hands together. Castiel finally turns to look at him and Sam sags against the wall as if holding Cas' stare has physically exhausted him, which--let's face it--with Cas, it tends to do that. Cas holds the kife out to Dean and suddenly he gets vivid flashbacks of being pinned against the wall of the very building they're trying to break into, of the angel's body's hard length and defiant stare, the edge of a knife gleaming as it slices the pale, smooth skin of the angel's arm.

Something cool and hard prods Dean and he jumps, eyes widening at Cas' piercing gaze, so close now as he grabs Dean's hand and wraps it around the blade.

"W-what. What do we need to do, Cas?" Sam asks, stuttering at Dean's wild dilated eyes, at the sudden change in tension around the three of them.

"I need you to carve an Enochian sigil into my skin," he explains, shrugging off the trench coat, then suit jacket, and slipping the tie off expertly.

"With your blood," Dean says flatly. Castiel inclines his head and then begins to fumble with his dress shirt buttons, trembling hands revealing nervousness. He manages to work one button before huffing slightly and tugging the shirt impatiently. Sam and Dean move closer, Dean's deft fingers working the lower buttons while Sam's get at the higher ones.

"Why can't you just mojo these off?" Sam asks to break the thick silence, and Dean huffs in agreement, his warm breath skittering across Cas' lower abdomen, muscles contracting. Sam notices how Castiel's Adam's apple bobs before he answers in a quiet voice.

"If I use my Grace, the guard angels will notice." Suddenly, he stiffens as Dean presses a palm against his stomach, breath hitching as Sam peels off the shirt, leaving Castiel as unguarded as they've ever seen. His eyes are a little darker than normal when he grabs the knife from Dean and slices his forearm, holding it out to them.

"Paint," he hisses and holy _fuck_, he's wearing that same look he wore right outside Bobby's Panic Room, the one that made Dean's stomach clench and say that careless comment about getting laid. Only now, with his shirt off, eyes dark, and teeth bared, he can totally pass for a porn star, and he knows he's not the only one who thinks this because Sam's breath is a little uneven beside him, his fists clenching and unclenching. Hesitantly, Dean dips his fingers in Cas' blood--it's cool against his heated skin--and looks at Castiel for guidance.

"Start with a circle," he says in that rough, deep Cas voice that Dean has always thought would be awesome for phone sex...which is definitely not appropriate right now but, hell, it's _true._

When his fingers first touch Cas' smooth skin, he has to physically restrain himself to keep his hands from roaming instead of doing their job and drawing the damn circle. He traces the path he made with the blood lightly with the knife, wincing at the breaking skin and welling red liquid. When he finally finishes, he keeps a hand on the lower planes of the angel's stomach because it just feels good to feel those muscles contracting under his touch. He looks up and Castiel's head is leaning against the wall, exposing that long, elegant neck, his breath coming in short pants. He mumbles something but Dean can't hear it, so Sam leans in close and Cas half-whispers, half-moans the next instruction into Sam's ear. Lowly, he tells Dean what to do, closing his eyes hard at the feel of Cas' warm breath against his ear, so reminiscent of that time when the angel came to their motel room drunk. This time is different though.

This time he _feels_ it in places he really, really shouldn't, and now Cas' teeth are grazing his earlobe, so obviously whatever Dean's doing is _wrecking _him, and Sam's shuddering, his shaking arms supporting his weight against the wall, one on each side of Cas' head. The teeth grazings become nips and nibbles against his earlobe, hot breath causing shivers of pleasure to wrack through his body. To his horror, he hears himself whimper and he presses his mouth against the side of Castiel's neck, just breathing harshly through his teeth as the angel continues his ministrations on Sam's ear, occasionally breathing instructions that Sam somehow manages to choke out.

Dean, on the other hand, is going kind of blood crazy. I mean, yeah, he's following the instructions from Cas via Sam--although he's not really sure how he can understand him because that boy is _shot_--but the feel of Cas' cool blood on his fingers which then go on Cas' suprisingly fit body is _ruining_ him and hearing every hiss of breath Castiel takes in pain-pleasure as Dean digs that knife into his skin just drives him closer to the edge until the sigil is done and he gives in to temptation, leaning in to tongue-fuck the angel's belly button. Castiel freezes and Dean hears a strangled whimper from Sam, and then--dear _Lord_--the angel utters a low groan, feral and animalistic.

Suddenly, he has Cas' blood-soaked fingers in his face and a harsh "you're not done," from Sam, but he takes one look at the offering and ignores the garbled directions, instead choosing to lean forward and take those long, tapering fingers into his mouth.

Castiel lets out an explosive breath and Dean looks up from under his eyelashes, almost choking at the sight of Sam's face in Cas' neck, eyes gleaming with desire at his brother, and Castiel's lidded eyes and pink mouth rasping a rough "Dean" that nearly kills him on the spot.

Sam and Castiel watch with wide eyes as Dean slowly, purposefully licks the digits, full feminine mouth puckering as he twirls his tongue, cleaning the blood off, before removing his lips with an obscene pop.

Sam loses control and bites the side of the angel's neck, who yelps and, in turn, sinks his teeth into Sam's earlobe and drags it down. Sam growls and tangles his hand through the angel's dark locks, bent on ravaging that elegant line of his neck.

Suddenly, Dean's hands are _everywhere_ and it's all Cas can do to not cry out, so he pulls Dean up from his knees by the hair, blue locking on green for a split second before their lips smash together. The kiss is not gentle and Sam is still working the back and sides of Castiel's neck, occasionally slipping his tongue across Dean's jaw which earns him a shiver and a slight stammer in the kiss. Tongues are slipping in, jaws are colliding, teeth are snapping, all in a desperate dance for dominance, power, need, release.

Suddenly, Dean breaks off the kiss, panting frantically, and there's Sam, wiggling in between them like an overexcited puppy, licking up Castiel's body--minus the sigil--occasionally lapping up trailing blood. He tongues Cas' nipples, making him erupt with a strangled moan that causes Sam to look up at both his brother and the angel, still on his knees. Dean looks at Sam's disheveled hair and long, lean neck and jawline and loses it, leaning down to bite at Sam's mouth, all teeth and bruising tongue.

In almost detached wonder, Sam feels himself being drawn away from Dean's mouth by a hand tugging his hair and feels the rough wetness of a tongue tracing his ear, slipping in and twisting experimentally. He draws in a sudden breath and whimpers--again, _Jesus_--and knows that if he turned around that'd be Castiel, whose ministrations on ears shouldn't be legal.

Dean stares open-mouthed at his angel's kiss-swollen lips and clever tongue inside his little brother's ear and gulps, looking down at Sam's bruised and puffy half-open mouth and prominent jawline as he tilts his head back, exposing the long neck he's had fantasies about for _years. _He leans down, licking at the salt of the skin, feeling the vibrations of Sam's broken whimpers. Sam is barely coherent as he fits his hands on his brother's and the rogue angel's hair, tugging slightly and getting two nearly identical groans. Sam grins and grabs Cas' forearm, dips his fingers at the wound, and slip-slides his hands all over Castiel's chest, tracing the path with the razor-edged knife, finishing the sigil.

Cas had told him all the directions after all.

The tall hunter moves back to the angel's arm, licking the cut clean, teeth flashing sharply in the dark. A dark, disturbing part of him shies away from the holy blood but he soldiers on, determined to see this through.

As Sam preoccupies himself, Dean takes one look at the very debauched angel, grabs him by the belt loops, and tugs him to Dean's hips, his lithe, lean body lining up perfectly against him. Dean's hands shift upward and find that the angel's slacks are of the low-slung breed, his sharp hipbones protruding outward, and really Dean has no choice but to run his hands over them and grip tightly as Castiel writhes against him.

And the angel is about to explode with the intensity of so many raw emotions running through him, Sam's tongue and teeth still doing wicked things to his arm, wrist, and hand, and Dean's mouth creating complicated passages along his neck and jaw, his hands going from his hips and drifting lower...

"Stop." And Dean and Sam are suddenly thrown backwards, not very far and not very hard, but not touching Castiel anymore, which he notes with detached disappointment.

"Cas, what--?" Dean is gasping and Sam is just lying in a heap on the ground, breathing hard.

"We...can't. I..." Castiel swallows hard, licking the still-swollen lips, eyes still dark as midnight. "We will attract attention," he finally says, voice hoarse and uneven.

Dean hisses through his teeth but nods jerkily at the now fully-cloathed--if the clothing is a little skewed--angel. Then he strides up to him and grips him by the lapels of his trench coat.

"But you better come back okay, you son of a bitch, so we can finish this," he growls.

Castiel gently does his not-smile smile and opens his mouth, but whatever he's about to say is muffled by Dean's lips on his and tongue in his mouth.

"In case you needed any motivation," he breathes into the angel's ear and Cas' knees buckle. Castiel nods weakly and disengages himself, feeling the burn of jade eyes on his back.

"Good luck, Cas," a voice calls and the angel turns to see a slowly recovering Sam, feeling a sudden surge of affection.

"Thank you, Sam," he grants him a not-smile. "Dean," he says softly, tenderly, and Dean looks up, but Cas is gone, the warehouse door clanging shut in the ominous quiet.

Dean shuts his eyes and clenches his fists, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turns around.

"Dean, he'll be okay." Dean closes his eyes tightly, clenching and unclenching his hands before letting out a shuddering breath.

"He'll be okay," he echoes.

* * *

_"And now we've lost Adam and Cas, too." Sam looks at him and shakes his head, messy hair flying wildly._

_"He'll be okay, Dean," and Dean's fingers relax at the steering wheel._

_

* * *

_**A/N: **Hmm. I really like this and I'm not really sure why. Just that "Point of No Return" was full of so many EPIC WINS I had to write something about it. The quotes are probably not right...

And I have this thing with Jared's neck...I think it started in that episode from Season 1 when Sam gets trapped by Dean's shapeshifter look-a-like and is tied to the post thingy and you see him struggling to get out of it, jaw clenching, neck bared...yeah, I'm pretty sure it was that episode.

I also very much enjoyed in 5x17 when Cas whispers in Sam's ear. I was like, "Damn, that is _hot_."

I like Misha's neck too, and his voice, and his fingers, I _adore_ his fingers...And Dean's lips.

GAH, why are they all so _perfect_?

....Er....continuation may be possible? If you guys want it?

Reviews are like owning Sam, Dean, and Castiel!


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